


Crazy for You

by Wolfsbride



Series: Five F*cking Times by tayryn [3]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Age Difference, F/M, Older Woman/Younger Man, Phone Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-27
Updated: 2014-07-27
Packaged: 2018-02-10 15:35:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2030484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfsbride/pseuds/Wolfsbride
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Olivia gets the man she deserves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crazy for You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tayryn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tayryn/gifts), [Persiflage](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflage/gifts), [mysticmelodies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysticmelodies/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Five F*cking Times](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1995822) by [tayryn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tayryn/pseuds/tayryn). 



A week and a half has gone by since that day in Dimitrios’ office and Bond seems totally captivated by Ms Vesper Lynd. While Olivia is grateful she hadn’t made a bigger fool of herself – at least she never confessed exactly how long she’d wanted him - the whole experience has left her feeling slightly bitter. More so because Bond is off swanning around. Ironically, she has the feeling that she wouldn’t mind so much if he was where she could keep an eye on him. 

She’s been using the time to try and regain control over her emotions but it doesn’t seem to matter that Bond is not in the vicinity, her thoughts are always with him and she’s taken to locking herself in the guest bathroom every night to frig herself silly. She’s sure the only reason Reginald hasn’t asked after her health is because he would consider it indelicate to do so. 

Sunday night approaches once more. Olivia is cleaning up the dinner dishes; Reginald is in the living room with his newspaper as usual. Lately, she’s been jealous of the damn thing. Her husband pays more attention to it than he does her. She feels as though she could parade naked and Reginald would only comment about her catching a chill.

She is torn between the desire for a touch that is not her own and apathy at the thought of her husband’s touch. It’s like being made love to by a robot, only worse, because at least with a robot there would be a chance to change its programming. She can’t even rant and rail at him, because she knew full well what she was getting when she married him – an obvious lack of adventurism and an adherence to routine that was practically regimental. 

At the time, it offset her own history of rule bending and she knew in the eyes of the Old Boy’s Network, Reginald had been seen as an ally, someone who could be counted on to keep her in line. Not that it had ever worked out that way. She merely made it look like she was complying, and then went about doing what she needed to do regardless.

Sighing, Olivia dries and puts away the dishes and then makes her way to the bedroom. Clearly whatever interest Bond had has gone, probably due to him coming to his senses. She was old enough to be his mother after all. 

There are a few hours to go before her appointed _bedroom_ time with Reginald. She certainly doesn’t want to spend it staring at the back of his newspaper listening to him mutter about the state of world affairs. She’s quite well versed about such matters. 

She glances at her silk pyjamas lying over her pillow and then makes a detour to her chest of drawers. Opening up one of the drawers, she takes out several items before closing it up again. She ducks into the guest bathroom, lights a few of the mildly scented candles, then draws a warm bath. She might as well pamper herself. Bond isn’t around to do it and Reginald would never think of it.

~*~*~*~*~*~

When Reginald finally retires for the evening, he finds Olivia in bed wearing a black lace bra, panty and suspenders set. He clucks his tongue in irritation. “Really, Olivia. Why are you still dressed?” Shrugging out of his clothes, he folds each item neatly and places them on a chair by his side of the bed. 

“I thought perhaps you’d like something nice to look at, Reginald.” 

Reginald lies on the bed, not giving his wife a second look. “There’s no need to try and impress me, darling. I married you after all, didn’t I?” A minute or so passes, and then he makes a noise of impatience. “Well, hurry up dear. I do need to get some sleep.”

At his side, Olivia feels a nearly blinding urge to rip Reginald’s cock and balls off and shove them down his throat. She could do it too, if she still carried her shiv. This man has no idea who she really is. He would be appalled by the person she was; the person she still is. She forces her rage down. She’s made her bed; now she has to lie in it.

Sitting up, Olivia carefully divests herself of her lacy garments. She can’t help thinking of the way Bond had looked at her; of his fascination. But Bond is not here. Here there is only she and the bland little man she is beginning to loathe.

Turning back to Reginald, Olivia looks him up and down. She shouldn’t compare. It’s wrong of her. Bond is more than twenty years junior to either of them. Of course his body’s responses would be different. But even if he couldn’t get it up at the drop of a hat, it would be nice not to feel like she was a chore, like Reginald was doing her a favour by shoving his prick inside her and fucking her for all of half a minute like a prize bull servicing a cow.

Reaching for her husband, she strokes him to stiffness. She doesn’t bother using her mouth; Reginald had made his opinion on that very plain. When he is suitably erect, Olivia lies back and lets Reginald do his duty.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Olivia is woken by the ringing of her private mobile. She reaches for it groggily. She’s tired from the flight back to England from Russia and staying behind to sort out the paperwork from Bond’s pursuit of Quantum. She refuses to think about how being fucked by Bond with the danger of being discovered had actually given her a jolt of energy.

She wonders who could be calling as Tanner hadn’t apprised her of anything that could develop into an emergency and Bond has not yet been assigned to anything. In fact, Bond is supposed to be on medical leave due to Ms Lynd’s death. 

The MI6 psychologists want to run a full exam before signing off on his readiness for another mission. If it _is_ Bond and he’s calling her – she glances at her clock – at 2am, to whine about this fact, she’ll save them the trouble by killing him herself. 

Accepting the call, she drags the phone to her ear. “Yes?” She hopes she sounds rather more alert than she feels.

At first there is no response, only heavy breathing and she wonders if somehow, some pervert has managed to hack her mobile. The thought clears away the cobwebs and she sits up. “Who is this?” she asks sharply.

“Olivia.” Her name is said in a low rasp followed by moan. 

“James?” 

Olivia is glad she moved into the guest bedroom permanently. She doesn’t have to worry about waking Reginald. 

Another moan sounds in her ear. “James? What’s happening? Are you alright?” Seconds later it occurs to Olivia that it is not sounds of pain she is hearing. “Mr Bond! I do not appreciate being woken at 2am to listen to you wank! What on earth are you thinking?”

“Fuck. Love it when you yell at me. And I’m thinking I’d like to fuck you again. In a bed. Do you think we could manage it sometime?”

And just like that her pussy is tingling and her nipples are hard. 

Olivia squeezes her legs together and steels herself. If there’s one thing she’s learned from this whole mess, it’s that she does not share easily. It’s one thing to know that Bond will be fucking someone for the sake of a mission; it’s quite another to have to think about him going home to someone else. There's a tiny dark part of her that is glad Vesper Lynd is dead. 

And however much she desires Bond, she is not willing to be thrown by the wayside whenever something new catches his fancy. “Are you sure you’d want to go to the trouble of having me in a bed, Mr Bond?”

The faint sounds of Bond’s movement stop and he inhales deeply. 

“Olivia.” Bond’s tone is bleak. “She was lovely, but she wasn’t you. She wasn’t you, but she was as close as I could get. It didn’t mean anything, as callous as that sounds.”

It should be frightening how easily he sees through her, however, all it does is give her another thrill. She clamps down on her reaction hard. “That resignation didn’t seem like nothing. You didn’t even have the decency to hand it in personally!” 

“Because I knew you’d bully me out of it and I needed to go because I needed to get away from you!” 

Olivia barely stops her gasp from escaping. Her heart feels like lead in her chest. “In that case, Mr Bond, I bid you good night!”

“Olivia! Wait! Please!” 

She hesitates. “Yes, Mr Bond? Do you have anything else you’d like to insult me with?”

There is a heavy sigh and a noise that sounds like Bond is running a hand over his head. When he finally speaks, his voice is barely above a whisper.

“I didn’t mean it like that. I couldn’t stay because you were driving me crazy.”

In spite of herself, Olivia snorts. 

On the other side of the line, Bond chuckles softly. “More so than usual.” 

Bond’s voice drops even lower. “That night in your apartment… after that night, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Christ. I’ve always thought you were sexy, but that night….” Bond trails off. 

There is a long pause and if not for the steady breathing, Olivia would have thought he’d hung up. “James? It’s alright, you know. You can tell me anything.” She thinks she understands better what he meant about needing to leave, but she wants to hear him say it. 

Bond laughs again, but not in an amused way. “I know. I think that’s what bothers me. We’re taught not to spill our secrets, but for you I want to lay myself bare. That night, you were so fucking hot. And afterwards, I couldn’t seem to stop wanting you.” 

Olivia presses a hand to her mouth to silence her groan. She rubs her thighs together, stimulating her pussy. It’s nice to know she wasn’t alone in this.

“I even started having wet dreams, for fuck’s sake!”

Bond’s scandalized tone makes her want to giggle. She feels like a teenager staying up late talking to a boyfriend while the parents are asleep in down the hall.

“I went through more sheets than I ever did as a teenager. It scared the fuck out of me. So I ran.”

“Straight to Vesper Lynd.”

“Yeah.”

The two of them are quiet for a long while. 

Olivia thinks about what Bond has just said. About the fact that he’s said anything at all. His confession puts him in a vulnerable position. She has the power to cut him to the quick. If she was petty, she could take her revenge for his tryst with Ms Lynd. But what would that serve? It would only alienate him from her. That’s the last thing she wants.

“James? You said she was as close as you could get. What did you mean?”

Bond clears his throat. “Just… She was a bit like you. Snarky. Didn’t put up with my shit. I think… I think she’s what you’d have been like if you hadn’t lived through a war. Or become an agent. Fuck.”

Olivia can hear Bond’s voice going rough. “James?”

“Nothing. It’s just… It was an asshole thing to do. I think towards the end she even really loved me, and… And all I could think of was you. Think about how I couldn’t have you. Wasn’t fair to either of you.”

Olivia sighs. She can’t even be bothered to pretend to lecture herself about the inappropriateness of both their behaviours anymore. She’s tired of denying her feelings. The fact that her feelings are reciprocated just makes the temptation worse. She’s never claimed to be a saint. And it would take more than a saint to resist James Bond. 

Bond must have taken her silence for disapproval because the next thing she hears is him apologizing, his manner gruff. She’s sure if she could see his face; his expression would be one of embarrassment. 

“Look. M. I’m sorry about the late night call. I… Just forget what I said.”

“James!” Now Olivia is the one scrambling. “What if I don’t want to forget it?”

She’s sacrificed everything for Queen and Country. In this, she’s going to be selfish.

“Olivia?” 

Bond’s tentativeness reminds her of how open he’s been. She can do no less. “You can have me, James. You must know how I feel about you. It’s not like I’ve been pushing you away.”

Bond’s quick inhalation is loud in her ear. She can hear the sheets rustle as Bond moves on his bed. Instantly, she visualizes him naked under his sheets. 

“Olivia.” He moans and suddenly they’re back where they started. “Olivia. You can’t say things like that. Your husband…”

“My husband doesn’t matter. You were honest with me, James so I’m going to trust you with my secrets. My marriage is mostly one of convenience and my husband is of the time when wives were not expected to take enjoyment in sex. The only women who enjoyed sex were whores and mistresses.” 

She leaves the rest of it unsaid. James is a smart man. 

“Your husband is a fucking idiot. If you were my wife…”

His anger on her behalf makes her smile. As for the other… “Yes, James? If I were your wife?” The pleasure she feels at that thought comes through in her voice.

“Fuck! Olivia. Christ. I wish you were here right now. I’d kiss you all over. Play with your tits, your pussy. Want you so much, Olivia.”

The husky tone goes straight to her groin. He’s wanking again and now that she doesn’t have to hold herself back, Olivia decides to join him. Pressing the phone tighter to her ear so as not to miss any of his noises, she spreads her legs and teases her fingers along her clit. She whimpers at the sensation. 

“Olivia? Are you touching yourself?”

“Yes.” She manages to pant. She’s not sure she’s going to be able to keep holding the phone and bring herself off. 

“Fuck! Fuck! I want to see you!” 

Bond’s movements speed up and she can hear his bed creaking. “Fuck, Olivia. I need… to see you. Please. Promise you’ll come... Come to my flat, sometime? Please? Oh God. Please.”

Olivia shivers at the pleading tone. Her hand is still between her legs but she’s stopped touching herself so she can concentrate on James. As she’d suspected she needs both hands to bring herself off, so she contents herself with listening to James fall apart. The way he whines her name when he comes makes her clench around her fingers. 

She listens to him panting and then to his breathing slowing down to normal. “That was lovely, James. We’ll talk about my coming over soon.”

“Mm, okay.”

She grins at how fuzzy he sounds. “Good night, James.”

“Night, Olivia.”

Hanging up, Olivia puts her mobile back on the little table by her bed and gets up to retrieve her vibrator. Not sleeping with her straight-laced husband has its benefits. The vibrator, of course, can’t hold a candle to James, but one does what one must. 

Shimmying out of her pyjama bottoms, Olivia lies back down. Turning it on, she presses it between her legs and replays James’ performance.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to:
> 
> -Tay for the inspiration  
> -Pers for the beta  
> -mysticmelodies for the feedback


End file.
